


pointe and purpose

by knlalla



Series: quick fics [11]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Gen, M/M, are they platonic or not it doesn't really matter tbh, in a geNTLE WAY, tearing down gender stereotypes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 11:26:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knlalla/pseuds/knlalla
Summary: prompted by the lovely anon that sent "concept: dan learned some basic ballet moves for distraction once / now he dances a little bit sometimes when he's doing stuff around the flat / like twirling a little in place or something / he doesn't notice he's doing it / phil does and thinks its adorable"thank you dear and i hope you enjoy!





	pointe and purpose

Phil’s not sure _when_ exactly Dan started doing it, but if he had to guess, it started after that one ballet lesson Dan dragged him along to. As if Phil has even the slightest bit of grace to perform one of those French-named leaps or even hold his leg up higher than his waist - he’s still not sure his ankles have healed from all the toe-pointing they had to do.

It’s supposed to be good exercise, and they’d tried pilates which was kind of close, and Dan had been on a mission to bash gender stereotypes that month so Phil had agreed to give it a shot. He’d also subsequently forgotten everything they learned.

Dan didn’t, apparently.

He’s stood at the stove making something, probably a stir fry since they’ve got a bunch of veg close to going bad, his feet flat and toes pointed out in one of the Specific Numbered Ballet Positions, although Phil can’t recall which one. Then Dan’s foot extends straight as he lifts it to the side slightly, just enough that the tip of his toe rests on the ground.

Phil watches the arch of his foot as he slides it back to the Specific Ballet Position, only a little enamored at how smooth and graceful Dan makes the simple movement look. He repeats it with his other foot, then he’s back to the first, shifting his weight as he switches.

Over the sizzling and of the pan, Phil’s fairly certain Dan hasn’t heard him come up the stairs yet, so he leans against the wall to watch for a bit. After the twelfth tap of Dan’s toe on the floor, he drags one leg out in a big circle behind him before pulling it back into- first position? Surely that’s what it was, Phil thinks. 

In any event, he pulls it back in, then does the same slow, careful movement again, then once more before he switches legs. This time, he adds a bend to his standing leg, just enough to drag the circle out a little wider behind him. His hand stills where it’d been stirring the pan, and Phil wonders if he’s made a sound and Dan’s somehow realized he was here. Even though he’s sure he’s been deathly silent, cause he doesn’t want Dan to notice and stop.

Dan’s slow, rhythmic movements continue, so Phil assumes he’s not been caught; Dan leans forward a bit and lifts his leg this time round, like a super slow-motion kick behind him, and he holds it still just as he turns the hob off.

There’s a clacking, then, Phil assumes the pan being moved, and the sizzling dies down enough for him to notice Dan’s humming something - a soft little melodic tune that matches the toes-pointed sidestep he makes toward the fridge. 

He moves in time with his humming, one step on the balls of his feet, then another, then his leg swings wide and he follows it in a spin. The moment his eyes catch Phil’s, however, they widen and he stumbles out of his graceful turn and smacks heavily into the corner of the fridge.

“F- _Phil_ , what are you- I’m- uh, what- why didn’t you _say_ something?” Dan finally lands on a disgruntled and _almost_ indignant look, though he doesn’t quite pull it off behind the blush creeping up his cheeks. Phil does his best to keep his smile gentle and kind; he doesn’t want to discourage Dan from doing something he’d clearly been enjoying. Even though he’s now rubbing at the shoulder he smacked into the fridge, so Phil doubts he’s enjoying himself anymore.

“You were busy?” Phil supplies, a false sort of excuse, he knows, and he can’t keep the question out of his tone, but watching Dan had been something almost...calming? He’s a little surprised at Dan’s grace, if he’s honest. 

“Right, uh, food’s ready, if...” Dan trails off without any real direction, hiking his thumb over his shoulder and ducking his head. He grabs the handle of the fridge door and pulls it open, and Phil wonders if the cool air would be enough to calm the warmth evident on Dan’s cheeks.

\-----

Phil doesn’t catch him doing it again for nearly a week, in spite of his best attempts to sneak up on Dan. This, strangely enough, has led to Dan assuming Phil’s trying to scare him instead - somehow, he _has_ , several times now, though never when Dan’s doing those ballet moves.

But there’s a stretch of time late on a Tuesday night where he’s not heard a peep out of Dan in what must be ages, though it’s only half nine and there’s no way Dan’s asleep yet. So Phil tiptoes down the stairs, doing his best to avoid that one stair he knows will make a bit of a squeak if he steps on it, and dashes across the entryway to the wall beside the door to Dan’s room.

He doesn’t dare peek in just yet, in case Dan maybe noticed his attempt at sneaking by unnoticed, but he listens as closely as he can for any noise. At first, he’s sure there’s nothing, and then he’s wondering if Dan’s not actually down here at all.

A few moments later, much to Phil’s delight, there’s a soft thud, the kind that comes from bare feet on hardwood. He waits, just to confirm he’s not making up the noise in his head, then he shifts just so he’s able to glance around the corner and into the mirror propped up against the wall.

He’s met with a reflection of the open space in Dan’s room, entirely empty, and Phil wonders if he really _had_ just been hearing things. A flash of an outstretched hand fills the space then, like Dan’s tucked back against the wall and nearly out of sight, and Phil tilts his head just a bit further.

Dan steps into view fully, then, an image in black from head to toe - or would it be head to ankle? His feet are bare as they step lightly across the floor, as Dan lifts himself onto his toes and takes a graceful sort of half-leap that lands him on the other end of the open space. To be fair, there’s not a whole lot of room, and Dan’s got quite long legs.

Those long legs pivot under him, then, and he takes smaller, more pointed steps back toward where he came from, arms following his movements in a very traditionally-ballerina-y style that Phil’s sure there’s a name for. It’s not til Dan pauses in the middle of the space to draw his leg up slowly that Phil realizes he’s got earbuds in, wireless ones, probably, which means he definitely hadn’t heard Phil sneak downstairs.

Phil watches, entranced, as Dan does a spin with his leg outstretched, something quick and unexpectedly sharp but in that ballet sort of graceful way. Except it’s not _quite_ graceful, as Dan catches himself and tugs his leg in just before it hits the bed, and he goes stumbling as he falls out of balance. Phil can’t see his face in the mirror, only the back of his head - which is good, as it means Dan can’t see him watching - but the way he bows over and huffs out a breath before straightening up and resetting his stance is something Phil recognizes well. He’s frustrated.

He scoots closer to the opposite wall and tries again, though even Phil can tell there’s not enough space for Dan’s long legs to complete a spin like that. Phil hears a muffled curse when Dan’s toe catches the edge of the mattress - just the mattress, fortunately, and not the hard wood of the base of the bed, but now Dan’s tugging an earbud out and turning enough that Phil can see his expression in the reflection, and-

He makes bold decision.

“There’s more space in the lounge?” Phil suggests as he steps fully into Dan’s room, into the space Dan had thought he was alone and felt comfortable doing this thing. He also clearly feels _less_ comfortable, now, his face turning a shade of red that rivals every tomato Phil’s seen in his life.

“Ph- _Phil_ , you can’t just- I was- I was doing something, you- were you _watching?”_ Dan sounds absolutely _pissed_ , and Phil supposes he has a right to be, but-

“I- I mean, I was, but...it’s lovely, Dan.” He decides honesty is maybe his best option here. Even if it makes Dan duck his head, purse his lips, tug at the hem of his oversized sweater. 

There’s a tangible silence, then, one that Phil’s not sure if he should fill or leave open for Dan to fill, or if maybe he ought to just leave altogether and let Dan be. But his resolution this year had been to hold more conviction with his own opinions, and he figures there’s no better time to start than now. He stays utterly still, letting Dan be the one to direct the conversation. Assuming he even _wants_ a conversation right now. Sometimes, Dan just prefers to think things over by himself before drawing a conclusion.

The silence refuses to end, though, or rather Dan refuses to fill it, so Phil’s left to make a decision.

“If you want to come practice in the lounge, I wouldn’t mind.” He offers Dan a small smile, though he’s not sure Dan’s even looking, before backing out into the entryway. He climbs the stairs a little heavier than he’d felt when he rushed down them earlier, but ultimately this is Dan’s choice, not Phil’s.

Really, it’s always been Dan’s choice, and Phil’s just gone and forced him into making it. A twinge of lingering guilt at making Dan uncomfortable pricks in his chest, but he tries to force it back. Ultimately, Dan should know Phil won’t judge him for doing something traditionally seen as feminine. 

But Dan’s always struggled with that - unlearning the norms that society drilled into him for years and years. Girls do this, boys do that, and if you’re a boy you don’t do girl things. He’s gotten better, far better than he used to be, but new things still catch him off guard sometimes, and he needs a moment to combat the learned instinct to be embarrassed at wanting to do a ‘girl thing’.

So Phil settles himself on the sofa and drags his computer back into his lap and waits, answering some emails but ultimately just keeping his ears perked for the telltale sound of the squeaky stair that means Dan’s gotten his head sorted and he’s ready to-

“Get your feet off the coffee table, I need to move it!” As if on cue, Dan comes stomping up the stairs, and Phil can’t fight the grin that spreads across his face as he pulls his feet back onto the floor. He turns to find Dan with his phone in hand and some light, melodic piano music drifting from the speaker. He’s undoubtedly still a bit pink, and he doesn’t quite meet Phil’s eyes as he makes his way to the coffee table to shove it over, but he seems to be settled.

Phil squishes himself up on the sofa entirely so Dan can have all the available floor space, and Dan peeks over his shoulder at him with twisted lips as he turns down the volume of the music.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked, is the music okay? If you’re busy, I don’t want it to bother you. I can do the earbuds instead,” he offers, more to the phone than to Phil, but Phil hears him all the same. 

“It’s actually nice, could you turn it up?” He’s always been a fan of instrumental music anyway, and this has a calming, gentle sound to it. Besides, there’s nothing Phil would rather do right now than get lost in the melody and in Dan’s dancing.

Dan just nods, turns it up a little louder, and sets his phone on the table. He’s still pointedly avoiding Phil’s gaze as he sets himself up in the much more spacious expanse of the lounge, so Phil makes a point of typing at his laptop to pretend he’s focused on that instead of Dan.

He has a tough time keeping up the ruse, however, when Dan finally exhales a shaky breath and starts to move. He’s not a professional by any means, but Phil’s enamored by the slow and steady, purposeful motions. It’s odd, he thinks, seeing Dan doing _anything_ with such clear intent, like he knows exactly where he’s going and how he wants to get there. Usually, food has to be involved for him to have that level of confidence and surety.

Dan must notice him watching, Phil reasons, but his steps don’t falter and he doesn’t stop, perhaps finally arriving at the place Phil knew he’d get to eventually: comfort, and the understanding that Phil knows when to tease and when to hold back, when to let Dan learn and grow and figure things out on his own without any outside judgment, good or bad.

Phil only realizes the song’s come to an end when Dan flops down beside him on the sofa, his body warm more from exercise now than from his earlier embarrassment.

“When I literally can’t move tomorrow because my legs are too sore,” Dan grumbles, “remind me that I _wanted_ to do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies! If you'd like, feel free to give it a cheeky [rb on tumblr](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/post/181931878682/concept-dan-learned-some-basic-ballet-moves-for)


End file.
